


A Cat in the Closet

by aldersprig



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey
Genre: Gen, small cliffhanger.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4294242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aldersprig/pseuds/aldersprig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their adventures in Narnia are over, but is it possible they have another journey yet to make</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Door in the Wall

Susan Pevensie had been tempted, when she found the secret doorway in her room, to keep it to herself.

The four of them were staying at a house in the country for summer and, while it wasn't nearly as nice or as large as the place where once they had found a world in a wardrobe, it was solid, and old, and full of strange passageways where there shouldn't have been any - including in the room Susan had been given, just behind the mirror.

It was quite tempting to sneak through on her own, to see what was behind the door and, for once, have an adventure she didn't have to share. _Lu and Edmund had gotten to go back to Narnia,_ a tiny part of her brain whispered. However, the more sensible part of her mind suggested that, while there was nothing at all like being a King or Queen in Narnia to be had in the whole world and, yes, Lu and Edmund had gotten _one more chance_ at it, but they were all in the same boat now. And if they were all cut off from Narnia, it would be nothing but cruelty to explore without them.

(In the end, Susan was not only a sensible sort, but, while she had been named fairly Queen Susan the Gentle, she could just as well have been named the Fair.)  
  
And so, despite the door just about staring at her from behind the mirror, despite the feeling of adventure just beckoning her, Susan waited until after dinner, until the adults who were minding them had gone off to play chess and left them, it was assume, to more childish pursuits. Only then did she beckon them all into her room.

"This had better not be about _makeup._ " Lucy had been nearly unbearable about certain things for the last couple years: Make-up, boys, school-work. It was as if she felt Susan was betraying her. Since Susan was intending nothing of the sort, she had settled for sighing and ignoring Lucy's outbursts.

This time, however, she found her temper a little pricked. "Of course I wouldn't want to torment you with anything so vile, Lu. No make-up, no clothing - wear something old and durable, all right?"

"That's clothing, Susan."

"But it's not _fashion._ " Susan desperately hoped that Lucy outgrew this phase soon. Please? Hurry."

Something about her voice must have caught their attention. The door could be nothing, of course. But it had been so carefully hidden, so very neatly crafted. If Susan had not dropped a hair-comb behind the mirror, she may have never found it at all.

It was Peter who gave her the strangest looks. "We'll be right there, Susan," he assured her. Always the big brother, always the King.

It seemed to take them forever to make their way from their own rooms to Susan's room. They had to make certain the adults were really ignoring them, of course, and Lucy had actually changed into something old and durable. Susan had taken the time to do the same, putting on an older dress, the one she liked for picnics and other outdoor pursuits. If they were going to be crawling about - for the door only reached to her shoulder - she wanted to be prepared.

"Well?" Edmund looked at Susan impatiently. "What it is? Only there was a book I was going to read tonight..."

Susan felt a sensation like flying coming over her. She found her lips curling into a silly smile, which was quite unlike her. "Oh, Edmund," she teased. "When did you become so _boring_?"

"What is it, Susan?" Even Peter sounded a bit impatient now. Susan's smile grew wider.

With a flourish, she pushed the large mirror aside.

"It's... a wall, Susan." Edmund sounded particularly snotty.

"No, not just a wall." The trigger was on the floor, right where nobody would ever put their foot, but where they might put a hand if they were picking up a hair-comb. Susan leaned on it until the door clicked open. "It's a doorway."


	2. On the Other Side of the Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course they don't shut the door all the way behind them. That doesn't mean trouble doesn't await anyway!

  
Peter insisted on leading the way, of course. “I wish I had my sword.”

“Fat lot of good it would do you, climbing through a tunnel,” Edmund scoffed. The tunnel - for indeed the door opened into a tunnel, planked in wood and about hip-high on Peter, who was still the tallest of them. “Do you remember that time—”

“Hsst.” It was all three of them at once shushing him. Edmund colored but closed his mouth; he knew as well as they all did that one did not speak of Narnia where grown-ups might be listening. And in this place, with tunnels in the walls, who knew who might be listening?

“I’ll go second, then,” Edmund allowed, with poor grace but at least a little common sense. “Lu, you bring up the rear. And remember—”

“Of course, Edmund.” Lucy sighed loudly. “I shan’t close the door all the way behind me.”

“Lu, there’s no need to be like that.” Peter dropped down to his knees and clambered into the tunnel. “Edmund, do you have a torch?”  
  
“I have two.” Edmund pursed his lips and then, making some sort of decision, passed one of his torches to Lucy. “Hold up, Peter, don’t go without us.” He hurried through the doorway.

Susan followed behind him, glad she had chosen to wear trousers. She could hear Lucy behind her and see the beam of the torch, although the tunnel was far less dark than one would suppose.

“It seems to go on a long time,” Peter called back. “It made a right turn, but it’s still going. Shouldn’t there be a wall here?”

Susan came to the right turn. The wood was very smooth under her hands and knees, and chilly, more like stone than wood. “I wonder what they built it for?”

“Maybe,” Lucy’s voice seemed to light up, “they were smuggling weapons. Or perhaps people. You could sleep in here all right, and if you turned the corner, even if someone found the doorway, they wouldn’t see you right away.”

It was on the tip of Susan’s tongue to say _Honestly, Lucy_ or just _Oh, Lu_ , the way she’d done so many times recently. But something about the tunnel made her remember another passage that had gone on a very long time, and she found something kinder to say instead.

“Perhaps they liked mysteries. I do wonder what’s above this space, though.”

It felt pleasant to be nice to Lucy. Things had been so ragged between them lately, especially since Lu and Edmund’s last visit to Narnia. Susan couldn’t remember the last time she’d giggled with her sister, the way they had when they were younger, especially when the boys were being gits.

“I think I... oh. I think I found something. Hurry up, Edmund.” Peter’s voice sounded strange, far-away and strained. Susan bit her lip. He’d sounded like that once when a Calormene archer caught him badly in the gut with a nasty, barbed arrow. Had he found some sort of rat-trap or other awful thing? Had he-

“Oh, girls, hurry up!” Edmund’s voice was all excitement. “You’ve got to see this!”

Susan’s worry flooded away, and in the space it had left, she found herself scolding. “Edmund, do hush. You don’t want them all to know we’re crawling around in here, do you?”

“I don’t think that’s a problem, Susan. Come on!”

Something in his voice spurred her on; his voice, and something in the air. She could feel a breeze, a breeze with a touch of spring seeming to waft in on it. “Oh, Lu,” she murmured. Her heart was pounding and she was moving along the passage as quickly as she could.

And then all of a sudden there was no more passage, and her vision was obscured by bright sunlight. Peter offered her both hands; it had to be Peter, because nobody else had those ridiculous sword-callouses he thought nobody would notice.

“Are we—” Her throat was tight.

“I don’t think so.” Her brother sounded apologetic, not at all as if they had just come through a secret passage into the sunlight. “Here. Look around, tell me what you think.”

That was something new since they had returned from Narnia.

Peter had not previously been all that interested in Susan’s opinion on matters outside the house or their siblings, but, as if he’d gotten used to the idea while they’d all been reigning Kings and Queens, now he tended to look for ideas outside himself.

Susan looked around. Behind them was dense forest, dark and heavy. She could see, very vaguely, the tunnel they had come through; Lucy was climbing out of it now. To their right, hills rose up into mountains in the distance, and to their left, there was more forest.

The forest behind them gave off a sensation of _watching_ , at the same time similar to and entirely different from the talking trees of Narnia.

“This is no place I have ever stood nor rode in Narnia, nor in any other land in that realm.” She found herself putting on what she thought of as her Queen Susan voice and what the girls in school had taken to calling her Snotty and Full of Herself voice. “It is - it’s not Narnia. I don’t think it could be.”

“Then where is it? Where could we possibly be, if not Narnia?” Lucy was looking around desperately. She wore a sad smile on her face, one that was at once desperate and eager. “It could have changed, Susan, you know that time passes so fast sometimes in Narnia.”

Susan closed her eyes, feeling a breeze on her face that had never touched Aslan’s mane. “It could have, Lu,” she agreed slowly. Aslan had told them all that Narnia was closed to them. They had gotten to old. “Or... we could have a brand new adventure, the four of us.”

_::We are hoping that you might::_

Susan knew that she was not the only one that jumped. The voice - the voice had appeared in their heads, rather than taking the normal route through the ears. She had been so certain they were alone in their little clearing. Had she become so lax with city living that she had not noticed someone sneaking up on them?

Her first glance around showed no-one. She slowly lowered her hand from her shoulder, where her quiver ought to have been, and saw Peter’s hand drop from his hip, where his sword would have ridden.

Edmund, however, was staring at... she hadn’t thought to look _down_ ; how long had it been since she had been in Narnia? Down, where the mouse could already be stabbing you...

And a very tall cat - very likely a Cat - was sitting there, very peaceably. It reminded Susan of a Siamese cat, with its pointed face and very tall ears. Those ears were rust-colored, as was its muzzle and paws, giving the impression of a white cat who’d gotten itself a bit dirty.

_::Harrumph. I have not been playing in any old armories, thank you very much::_ The Cat’s lips did not move, but the cant of its ears assured Susan that it, indeed, was doing the talking. _::Welcome to Valdemar, children. It was thought that you could help us here and, in doing so, perhaps you could find the help that you needed as well.::_  



	3. The Call Comes Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pevensie children are in a strange land once again. What exactly is going on?

_...Perhaps you could find the help that you needed as well_

Susan looked at Edmund, who was frowning. She looked at Lucy, who wore a smile which was at the same time hopeful and very confused. She looked finally at Peter, who was looking what she thought of as Kingly.

Help that they needed? What could it be that they all needed together?

Peter took a step forward. He bowed politely to the cat and cleared his throat. “Please,” he said, sounding so much like a schoolboy that it hurt Susan to listen. Who was this shy boy? “Where are we? And who am I speaking to?”

_::You are in the southernmost corner of a nation called Valdemar, in a world that is not that which you were born on, nor the same world as your Narnia. And I am Tesnel. I am a Firecat, a representative of Vkandis Sunlord.::_ The Cat - _Firecat,_ Susan supposed - took a moment to groom herself. _::I was chosen to speak to you because of your affinity towards other catlike avatars of the gods. And... we need your help.::_  
  
Well, that was certainly an introduction. Susan, as she had so often done with Animals in Narnia, sat down on the ground to be closer to eye level with the Firecat. “What is it you need our help with? And, I’m sorry, but... do you have any proof?”

_::Your time in both lives has made you cynical, Daughter of Eve.::_ The cat did not sound as if she disapproved.

“Susan--” Peter began, but the cat cut him off.

_::And I have brought some gifts for you that I believe may help you trust.::_ The cat blinked, and a pile of objects appeared in front of her.

This was a magic Susan had not seen before, fascinating and strange. To make things appear out of nowhere! But the objects themselves -- that was even more fascinating.

“Is that... is that my bow?” She knelt down, remembering at the last moment to wait politely for the others.

Edmund hung back, but, then again, Edmund had not received a present from Father Christmas all those years ago. Poor Edmund, Susan thought suddenly, to be reminded forever of what had really been one foolish, childish mistakes. As if none of the rest of them had ever done anything silly!

_::Step forward, King Edmund. you have not been forgotten. Father Christmas, I am told, made a special trip for you.::_ The Firecat nudged a package forward, wrapped in red paper with golden ribbons. _::Open it.::_

Susan looked at Lucy, who was cradling her gifts. She looked at Peter, who was checking the line of his sword and posing. She looked back to Edmund, who was staring at the small package nervously.

_::You were called the Just, and although it may not be fair that your gifts have waited so much longer than those of your siblings, it is just, for these gifts will serve you in much greater stead here in Valdemar.::_ Tesnel pushed the package towards Edmund with a paw. _::Open it, King Edmund.::_

Susan sat down next to her younger brother. “Open them, Ed. It’s okay.”

“You know why Father Christmas didn’t give me gifts when he gave them to the rest of you lot.” Edmund did not look at Susan; he was staring at the wrapped parcels. “I don’t deserve these.”

“I say,” Susan said, as firmly as she could muster, “that if Father Christmas says that now is the time for these presents, well then, you oughtn’t do him a disservice by ignoring them. Come on, Ed. It’s time.”

Edmund pierced her with a look, such an inscrutable look that Susan struggled not to gasp. “‘It’s time’, says Queen Susan. Then I guess it must be.” He opened the package, his fingers seeming to tremble on the wrappings.

_::To be just,::_ Tesnel seemed to whisper in their minds, _::you need both strength and understanding. The mace is an ugly weapon, King Edmund, that you remember that war is ugly and use it only when needed. And the vial, well, that offers understanding. One drop on your tongue, and you will speak any language. One in your ear, and you will understand any speech. One drop on your eyes, and you may read or write any language.::_

Edmund managed a thank you that was rather stammered. To Susan’s eyes, he looked stunned. He touched the gifts again, as if reassuring himself that they were truly there.

_::You will all have need of yours gifts soon, I’m afraid.::_ Tesnel bowed her head. _::You have been called here because, as Narnia once was, Valdemar is now: they are in need of help. Soon, a companion will arrive to explain things to you. But know this, children of another land, kings and queens of Narnia: ::_ The firecat looked solemn and serious, in the way they had only known one other feline to look. _::This is not an easy road, but it is a necessary one. And it may be that you four are the only ones who can walk it.::_

The firecat wiggled its whiskers, a gesture that should have been comical and was instead sad, and was gone, leaving the four of them standing alone in front of a strange forest.  



	4. New Travelling Companions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pevensies are momentarily alone in this strange land. However, company soon arrives.

The Pevensies found themselves alone again, in front of a strange forest in a strange land.  
  
The four of them shared a long and thoughtful look.   
  
“I have to say,” Peter admitted after a moment, “I feel underdressed.”  
  
“We are, however, less under-armed than we were a few moments ago,” Susan pointed out. She was glad it had not been her who’d admitted to feeling improperly clothed, but she certainly was feeling much the same. A Queen wore raiment. A school-girl on a lark wore her brother’s hand-me-down pants and a blouse to grubby for wearing out.   
  
“It doesn’t matter.” Lucy’s smile was back, her proper smile, bright and gleaming. “We’re Kings and Queens the same whether we’re in wellies and mackintoshes or in gowns and crowns.”  
  
Edmund chuckled. “Always the same, Lu, cheerful and bright.” He patted her on the back companionably. “And you’re right. You’ve got your proper gifts, and I’ve got —” He looked down at the mace thoughtfully. “Well, I’ve got a proper gift, too.”  
  
The sound of hoof-beats approaching stilled their chatter. Without discussion, without even a sign from Peter, the four of them fell into a combat formation. Susan found herself drawing an arrow as if they had never left Narnia, the movements smooth and comfortable.   
  
The whitest, largest horse Susan had ever seen trotted into sight. Its rider was showing off, she realized; the mount was doing dance steps, curvetting and side-stepping as they approached.   
  
And on the horse’s back — or, she realized, perhaps the Horse’s back — the rider was dressed all in white as well. The horse’s tack was all white with very pale blue barding, and bells jangled on the barding.  
  
The rider was dark-skinned, darker even than the Calormen, but with a beak-like nose that seemed almost familiar to Susan. His long hair was braided up into a crown, wrapped around the rider’s head, almost like a turban.  
  
His eyes were the sort of black that you could get lost in. Susan stifled a reaction. She steadied her aim and watched the rider’s movements.   
  
He lifted both hands carefully, showing they were empty. “Greetings.” Even his accent sounded like the Calormen. “I believe you were expecting me. I am Soleck; this is Leffen.” He moved one hand to pat the horse’s neck as he introduced him —  _him_ ; Susan realized; the great white horse was a stallion. The horse, in turn, exhibited a lovely bow. “And I am told that you are here to help us in our current, ah, quest. These things are true? You are the kings and queens from a far distant place? Susan and Peter, Lucy and Edmund?”  
  
They all stayed frozen for a moment. Peter was the first to relax, the first to smile. He stepped forward, his hand off his sword hilt and a wide smile on his face.   
  
Of course, Susan knew, he was still playing the protector, as always. If this was a ruse, Peter would be the first to be hit, and the others would have a chance to flee or retaliate. She lowered her bow, but did not put it up just yet. They were in a strange land, with no easy route home, and they did not know the rules yet.  
  
While she assessed, Peter was holding out his hand to the stranger. “That’s us,” he agreed. “I am Peter. These are my brother and my sisters.”  
  
Susan noted that he did not say  _King Peter_. Their kingdom, after all, was so far far away.   
  
The man leaned down from his saddle and shook the proffered hand. “A pleasure to meet you. I assure you all, I mean you no harm, and neither does Leffen. Here.” He slid out of his saddle and held his hands away from his belt, showing himself to be unarmed. “What the Sunlord has sent, I will not turn away.”   
  
The Sunlord again. Susan itched for a text on comparative religion. In Narnia, where Aslan had walked among them, there had been very little religion, and it had been quite easy to sort out. In other nations — and back on Earth — it had been a different matter entirely.   
  
Peter was bowing to the ambassador. “We have been sent, it seems,” he allowed, “and we’ve learned better than to question Aslan’s will in these matters. I suppose that makes us allies.”  
  
“This Aslan, he is the one who sent you?”  
  
“So we were told, and so, in this case, we believe. Tesnel — that is the Firecat — told us that a ‘companion’ would arrive to explain things. Is that you, then?”  
  
“Ah. Well, Leffen is the Companion, and I am his Herald.”  
  
At that, Leffen demonstrated such a gracious head-nod bow that Susan had to believe he was a Horse and not merely a horse. If there was anything about Narnia that Susan missed most of all — and it was hard to say, because she missed all of Narnia so much that it hurt even to think of it — it was Horses, and specifically her favorite Horse Carter, who had carried her right to the edge of the Lantern Waste after so many more glorious adventures.   
  
She moved forward, putting up her bow and arrow now, but even as she was stepping towards the Horse — for he must be greeted too, of course, and he was the one that Tesnel had send to them — she could see that Soleck had tensed. He had introduced Leffen, but had he intended them to speak to the Horse?  
  
Susan changed her direction mid-stride. She was hampered only slightly by her lack of skirts as she curtseyed deeply, for a Queen of course must be polite in any and every situation. She aimed her genuflection directly between Soleck and Leffen. “Herald Soleck, Companion Leffen, I am pleased to meet you. I am Susan.”  
  
_::I like her.::_  Leffen took a step forward and very neatly nosed Susan’s hair.  _::These are the ones, all right.::_  
  
“Lu, come on.” Susan gestured her sister over with a hand-wave far less queenly than her dignity might have like. “He smells  _just_  like Carter. Exactly! I mean.” She stepped back before she could throw her arms around the Horse’s neck. “I apologize, sir. You remind me of someone I once knew.” She paused, her eyes travelling over to Soleck, who was watching her with mouth open and eyebrows raised so far as to be sitting in his braids. “You both remind me of people I once knew.”  
  
_::Sir?::_  Leffen stepped forward to nuzzle at Susan’s shoulder again.  _::I like her very much.::_


	5. Complications and then Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cultural issues arise, and Soleck begins to explain the mission.

It could not be hugging Horses forever, of course. Susan reluctantly released Leffen’s neck and stepped back, curtseying again to make up for her lack of manners. “My apologies again. Herald Soleck, Companion Leffen, you have a mission for us?”

“I do, yes. The first step of that mission is rest, however, and outfits more suitable for Valdemar. You have come from very far away, I believe, but we wish it not appear such to outsiders. Can you stand a short walk? Perhaps a candlemark?”

Susan could hazard a guess at a “candlemark,” but it did not really matter. She nodded at Peter’s raised eyebrow; she would walk all day if she had to, to be out in nature again, and to be on a mission again. 

“We can walk that far,” Peter agreed. “As long as the terrain’s not too harsh.”

“We weren’t planning on being called to a strange land quite at this time,” Edmund offered. “Although I suppose we’re never planning on it, not truly. 

“‘He’s not a tame lion,’” Lucy whispered. Susan forbore to comment, as she was still allowing herself some skepticism. It might not be Aslan, after all. He’d said they wouldn’t be allowed back into Narnia. And then to have allowed them into this new, strange world…”

“Leffen can carry two with ease,” Soleck offered, “if the younger two would like to ride, and the rest of us can walk.”

“Oh, could we?” Lucy’s eyes lit up, while Edmund grimaced. 

“Let Susan ride with Lu. She’ll enjoy it more, and I don’t really need the ride.”

Susan jutted out her chin. “Oh Edmund, don’t be a pill. Ride with Lu, you know it will make her happy. I’m out of practice riding,” she added smoothly, “and it will hurt less to walk, if I’m being honest.” She watched Soleck curiously. He had defaulted to “the younger two” rather than “the two girls.” She found that very telling about him, at least, and perhaps the world. 

Meanwhile, Leffen was laughing in their heads and nuzzling Lucy. ::Someone ride me. This saddle on my back isn’t for decoration, you know. And Edmund? Great kings have deigned to ride Companions before, sometimes even with their little sister.::

Edmund flushed angrily. “It’s not that! But why shouldn’t Susan ride with Lu and I walk? I’m not a cripple, you know!”

“Oh, dear.” Soleck coughed. “Leffen, we have stumbled, I believe, into some sort of cultural difference once again. I apologize, my friends.” He bowed to Edmund. “I meant no offense. Certainly we all believe all of us can walk, yes. But in this land of Valdemar, where we are standing right now—”

Susan stepped in. As much as she was fascinated by what this Herald was saying – or at least what he was implying – she could see that Edmund was not in the mood to be placated. “It’s all right, Soleck. If Leffen does not mind, I’ll ride with Lu.”

There was nothing Edmund could say to that without making himself look more the fool, a tantrum-prone child who hadn’t gotten his way, and it was clear he knew that. He forced a smile. “It’ll do good for you to be on a Horse’s back again, Susan,” he offered.

“It will,” Susan agreed. She swung herself up onto Leffen’s back, pleased one more time that she had chosen to wear trousers. 

Instead, he was clearing his throat. “Ah. The Companions do not like to be confused with horses. They are quite a different creature, you see.”  
::It’s all right, Soleck.:: Leffen nosed his Herald. ::They say “horse” but they are thinking “Horse,” which is quite fascinating. And “Cat.”::

Susan shook her head, as if to get dust out from between her ears. Having someone talk inside her mind was still quite strange. “In Narnia, where we…” She had almost said where we are from. “…were for quite a while, there are many, ah, many Beasts who are every bit as thinking people as human beings are. Horses and Cats…”

“Beavers!” Lucy put in. 

“And Wolves,” Edmund added darkly.

::Fascinating.:: Leffen settled into a lazy walk which Soleck, Peter, and Edumund could easily keep up with. ::There are some beast-like things here which are sentient, but only Sun-Cats and Companions take the shape of something also found in a non-sentient form..::

“Other sentient animals?” Lucy pulled herself up straight. “Can we meet them?”

“Lu,” Peter scolded, “we’re on a mission, remember? We can’t go haring off to pet the – ah, to meet the other Animals when we were called here for a reason.”

Before Lucy could deflate, Susan intervened. “Perhaps when our mission is over?” she offered. “Or, Herald Soleck, Companion Leffen, I do not know how things are laid out here. Perhaps sometime on our visit, we could meet one of these Animals?”

::It is possible...:: Leffen began slowly, ::that we might encounter a kyree. Most of the others are far too far away for this particular trip, but I will… that is, we will see what we can do..::

“We will,” Soleck agreed, with solemn humor. “If the four of you can succeed where many others have failed, I believe a social visit is the least of what we will owe you.”

“Honestly, Lu—” Edmund began. Susan erred on the side of rudeness and turned to Soleck before Ed could finish. 

“This quest, I don’t believe it’s been explained yet. Do you think you could help us out with that?” She left many things unsaid, like at least if you have a believable story, you’re likely not walking us into a trap and I suppose you must know we can help you, as Aslan sent us to your Firelord, but it would be nice to have some reassurance.

The look Soleck shot her suggested that he could guess at all of her unsaid things and hazard a decent assumption about why she’d spoken when she had, too. The smile made her chest do something strange. 

And she wanted to hug him – or give him a job in the court she had once had – when he said none of that at all, nor showed it in his voice. 

“Certainly, I can tell you about this mission. I apologize; I was too engrossed in getting you to a place of comfort and proper clothing. This mission, you see, is all about our missing Prince.” He had dropped his voice down into a conversational murmur. “But we cannot allow it to be heard around that he is missing, or people will fret, and perhaps political maneuverings will become… tricky.”

“So,” Peter summed up, just as quietly, “you’re looking for someone you can’t admit is missing, so having outsiders who nobody knows to watch out for look for him is an ideal plan.”

“Exactly.” Soleck beamed happily, his smile just as quickly fading. “However, it is still more complicated, as well.”


	6. Stranger Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soleck is strange. The Pevensies are strange. This world is strange.

Leffen had a steady, comfortable gait, the sort Susan imagined must be lovely on campaign, when one spent so much time in-saddle that one’s saddle sores had gained their own landscapes and maps. She found it quite soothing, and an interesting contrast to Soleck’s story. 

“The Prince, Sendar, he has been having trouble around the Palace. Nothing large, but these things sometimes happen to young nobles. They get involved with people who are not the best choices, they allow themselves to be taunted into things they shouldn’t…”

“Like the time, remember…” Lucy began, and stopped. “That is, young people do that everywhere.”

Soleck wisely did not smile at this coming in Lucy’s small, chirping voice. “Indeed. Our Prince has made some choices that, perhaps, he would not have made were here somewhat older. And he is not listening to older or wiser counsel, or, that is, was not listening before he disappeared.”

“Kidnapped?” asked Peter. 

Soleck coughed. “No. That is, we do not believe he was kidnapped without his own willing consent, although how willing he might be now is up to some interpretation. The problem we are having is, he has stopped listening to Heralds or to Companions save his own, and his own Companion, who should know better, is not speaking with us. He...” Here Soleck coughed again, and took a moment to look quite embarrassed. “He will not speak with anyone he considers an adult or an authority.”

“So we’re perfect,” Edmund pointed out cheerfully, “because we don’t look like adults or authority figures at all.”

Susan eyed him thoughtfully, but Ed didn’t seem upset by this revelation. It had been an adjustment for all of them, getting used to their childish bodies yet again, but it had seemed hardest on him and Lu. Now, though, Edmund was grinning. “It’s practically being incognito. I remember things I thought I’d lost forever, I can still just about swing this mace properly, and everyone is going to look at me and see a kid.”

“When did you get interested in espionage, Ed?” Peter teased. “I thought you were more direct than that.”

Susan remembered it differently. She remembered Ed smiling brightly and coming home with his pockets full of secrets. “I think it’s brilliant. That is, once we’ve gotten clothes that don’t look so much like we crawled through the rag-bag and not the closet to get here.”

“You do not look rag-bag,” Soleck protested gallantly. “You look foreign and strange, that is all. Exotic.”  
“Exotic!” Lucy exclaimed. “I like that. Like the time when we went to Madrid, and we were the strangest thing around. We’re exotic, Susan!”

Susan thought, from the way that Soleck looked at her, that he thought exotic was a very good thing indeed. She ducked her head and smiled, pretending it was just at her sister. “Well, we’re in a strange land again, Lu. It’s been a while since we could say that.”

“You are not so different in coloration than many of those here in Valdemar,” Soleck offered. “But your manner is, perhaps, a little different. As is mine.”

“Yours?” Peter tilted his head. “Are you strange, then, to those who know you?”

 _::Not to those who know him,::_ Leffen inserted, _::but to those who will not see.::_

Susan took a long look at Soleck. Her first impression had been of a Calormen who had been in the sun for quite some time. His white clothing hung on him as if tailored to him, and matched the Leffen and Leffen’s tack too much for it to be an accident. He was handsome, she thought, with a square chin and a pleasant smile, but that could be its own curse.

He shifted from foot to foot. “I am dark and strange for one of Valdemar, yes. There are darker, of course, but none of them look so… so Karsite as I do.”

“Karsite?” Peter asked. 

Soleck shifted again. “It does happen. Not often, but the Companions Choose who they will.”

“It’s not that.” Edmund was carefully neutral. “What’s a Karsite?”

“Oh, yes.” He looked startled. “That is not why you were looking at me, then. You are truly not from around here.”

“We are from – practically another world,” Peter answered carefully. 

“Two other worlds, really,” Lu pointed out. “But that’s okay. We’ll be perfect for your mission that way.”

Soleck gave Lucy a long, thoughtful look, which he then turned on Peter, then Edmund, and then Susan. “You are strange, too, then. I see. It is possible that this mission will succeed.”

Susan didn’t think she was supposed to hear what he said next, but she had a habit of hearing such things left over from a time long-gone in a world long-locked. “It is possible,” he muttered, “that I am not the strangest thing here anymore.”


	7. A Change and Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valdemar welcomes the Pevensies.

The ride – or walk, for Peter, Edmund, and Soleck – was not difficult, and it ended far sooner than Susan was ready for it to. They rode into a small village which seemed to grow out of the side of the hill, or maybe, like children’s toys, to have been tossed down along the slope. Leffen had no more trouble with the steep slope than he had with any other terrain, climbing up it as if it were a flat meadow. 

When Susan slid off after Lucy, it was with great reluctance. And it seemed that Leffen understood that, for he nuzzled her as she patted him. ::This will not be our last ride, Queen Susan:: It seemed as if the Companion thought only for her ears, as it were. ::And, I assure you, this is far, far from your last ride on Valdemar soil or on the back of a Companion. But we must all do what we must, no?:: 

Susan took a breath to steady herself, and indulged herself for a moment. She pressed her face to the side of Leffen’s face, and breathed in his horsey, perfect smell. “We must all do what we must,” she whispered back to him. “And never let it be said that Susan Pevensie did not do what was needful.” 

Leffen nosed into her hands and then stepped back, letting it seem as if Susan had chosen to rejoin her family. She looked around; Soleck was speaking politely to a few older people, while nearby children waited to see the Companion. 

The garb on the people here was different from what they were wearing by quite a bit, although Susan should not have been surprised by that. It was also notably different from Soleck’s white vest, white shirt, and white breeches, although mostly in colors. 

Susan looked down at her old shirt and trousers and looked over at the women speaking to Soleck. The foremost was wearing trousers and a vest that looked made for durability rather than fashion; the two behind her, both with braided hair in steel-grey and white, were wearing what looked to be long skirts to their ankles with boots showing underneath. They would certainly stand out here for their clothing, if for no other reason. Susan patted her hair nervously. 

Lucy was smiling at the children, waving at one nearly as old as her. She was in her element. Peter had joined Soleck and was negotiating, and Edmund had begun talking to a boy nearly his age. Susan… had been wool-gathering. She turned to find something to do. There had to be something. 

“And you must be the leader of this group.” A matron in middle-age, the grey just starting to touch her temples, bustled over to Susan. “And you look as if you’ll either freeze or scorch, depending on which way your trip is going. Trust a Herald to think of everything except clothing. My name is Marna, hello dear. We’re to get you outfitted properly. Come this way.” 

Susan blinked in the face of such efficiency. “Aah – I do believe Soleck, Herald Soleck said that he would be getting us more appropriate clothes,” she offered, as she found herself pulled along in Marna’s wake. “But I do thank you.” She looked down at her poor dress again and offered, “we were not dressed for travelling when this – when this mission was presented to us.” 

“Dumped on you, more like it, and barely over children yourselves.” Marna stopped dead, turned around, and looked at Susan sharply. “But not children anymore, are you?” 

Susan resisted the urge to blush and look away under the strength of that gaze. She lifted her chin and allowed herself a small smile instead. “It depends, ma’am, on how you measure childhood.” 

“And a tidy ‘none of your business’ returned, and polite at that.” Marna’s smile suggested she was not truly offended. “You come with a Herald bringing you on a mission, so I trust you have good reason to be here. Now, you may be past childhood or near it, but you’re the same size as my daughter Astiansa before she went off to the capital to be a Bard, and your wee sister there is not so much smaller than my niece.” 

Susan allowed herself to be fussed over, the vests and skirts heaped in her arms. “And a cloak, there, because it can get cold in the hills even in the midst of summer. And Orna down the street will see to a place for you to stay for the night, and she’ll have something for your brothers, too. And what Herald thought it was a good idea to let you walk around half-dressed…” Marna tutted. “It’s not my business, and I know that. But still!” 

Susan found herself smiling. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, although there was nothing wrong with smiling in and of itself. “You just remind me very much of…” Of Mrs. Beaver “….of someone I used to know.” Her heart ached for a moment. If they went back through the door, here, when they returned would Marna and all her village, too, be centuries dead? 

She swallowed and found her smile again before Marna had noticed it gone. “And it’s very nice of you to be helping us. Thank you for the clothing. I’ll be sure to retu—” 

“You’ll do no such thing. Astiansa has her Bardic reds now, and my niece has outgrown these. They are a gift, and you’ll do me honor by taking them.” 

Susan bowed, though her hands were laden, and did not smile at that. “I thank you, madam. It is very kind of you.” 

Marna’s expression softened. “And it’s only what should be done. Come on, we’ll see to your bedding and clothes for your brothers. Boys that they are, someone must be letting down their hems every other week, aren’t they?” 

Susan lost herself pleasantly in the domestic chatter, mending and feeding and following after teenaged boys, who were never done growing. She remembered, deep in her heart, when Peter had reached his full growth, and Edmund soon after. She wondered how many times she would watch them grow, and Lucy too. She found she was looking forward to it again.


	8. But Not A Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a nice enough place... but it's not Narnia

“It seems like they’re used to Heralds coming through,” Peter whispered into the dark. Marna’s friend Orna had put them all up in a broad sleeping loft where, she told them, her sons had slept before they’d left the house. 

“And as they’ve not come back with wives and children yet, well, the space is open and someone might as well sleep there,” she’d continued, fussing over all of their protestations. “And there’s food for the eating, and the clothes fit you two well enough, and…” And on she’d gone, but she hadn’t turned down Susan and Lucy’s offers of help in the kitchen, nor Peter and Edmund’s offer to split wood for the coming winter. 

“Even our age, or younger. Soleck had to explain a couple times that we hadn’t been Chosen, whatever that means. Seems like these Heralds do a lot more than just pass messages,” Edmund offered. 

“If the Horses – Companions – are that rare here, it would make sense. You might team a messenger up with a talking Horse if you had them, or for a very urgent message…” Lucy had skill in keeping her voice very quiet, and yet sounding excited and ready to jump from her bed, as she did now. 

“I heard them ask Soleck for a judgement on a small matter,” Peter murmured. “And he sounded as if he was used to such things. It seems reasonable that he might be empowered to send us on such a mission as this.” 

“The question is,” Susan put in, “the mission itself. Not only ‘can we do it’, but should we? I mean… we can _assume_ that Aslan sent us here, and if we assume that, then yes, we should do the mission. But…” 

“But a cat is not a lion,” Peter agreed quietly, “and there are times when others pretend to speak with Aslan’s voice. I say… I say we go along for the time being, and do our best not to stumble too badly.” 

“At least until we can find out what a stumble might mean, here.” Edmund sounded thoughtful. “I mean, will we end being turned to stone, or, well…” 

“Causing a major diplomatic incident by wearing the wrong veil,” Susan filled in. She had made her own mistakes, back in Narnia, back on Earth. “Or simply irritate an ambassador by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” 

“We should tread carefully and make friends,” Lucy agreed brightly. “It’s a nice world, so far. The people are nice. The houses are nice.” 

“I do miss Mr. and Mrs. Beaver,” Susan admitted softly. “But this is a nice house. And everyone’s been so kind so far.” 

“Perhaps there’s a war.” Peter sounded distant. “Lucy and Ed are right. We’ll have to tread very carefully indeed here. We’ll have to remember that this isn’t home – and that this isn’t _home_ , either.” 

“But we can find their… but we can do this mission, yes?” Lucy was nearly leaning out of her bunk. “It sounds like quite the adventure!” 

“We can take the mission, yes.” Peter sounded like himself again. Trust Lucy to remind him he had a heart. “Something brought us here, after all. We should find out what, at the very least. And the best way to do that is to play along.” 

Susan curled in her bunk, trying to ignore the cold feeling in her chest. She had often been the pragmatic one in their little team. Why, now, was she fighting it? 

She wrapped her arms around her knees and made herself sound bright as she backed Peter up. “I’m sure we can learn much more about them than they’d expect. As Ed said, we look younger than we are.” 

“We _are_ younger than we are,” Lucy laughed. “I wonder how long we’ll be here, this time…?” 

“I’m sure we’ll find out. Just don’t leave any pots on the boil anywhere,” Edmund joked. 

“But for now,” Peter put in firmly, “we should sleep. We’ll have a long day ahead of us in the morning.” 

Susan closed her eyes. An old verse of Narnian poetry came to her mind, and she recited the words silently until she could make herself sleep.   
__  
My love, I but stepped out a bit; my love, I but to the fence did flit.  
My love, ‘twas just a moment gone. I swear I would return anon. 


	9. The Gods Not Tamed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soleck isn't certain about these strange children tasked with such an important mission... 
> 
> ...and Lucy makes jokes about the SunLord.

The next morning found mounts, Soleck, Leffen, breakfast, and packed saddle bags waiting for the four of them. Breakfast, as laid out by Marna and Orna, was heavy, filling, and delicious. The horses were horses only, as far as Susan could tell, solid working beasts that seemed placid, easy rides. Well, Soleck had no way of knowing they’d spent a lifetime in the saddle, and these may have been the rides available. Susan hoped she wasn’t taking a beast someone needed to pull a plow. 

“One more day I will travel with you, and then one more morning. After that, the sight of a Herald and Companion is likely to spook His Highness or cause the wrong rumors to go to the wrong ears. There will be other guides, however.” Soleck half-bowed apologetically. “We would not send you off into strange wilderness alone.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Edmund quipped quietly. He cleared his throat when Soleck looked at him strangely. “We appreciate the guides. It’s a strange place, like you said. We’d likely get awfully turned around without some help.”

That, Susan thought, might be laying it on a bit heavily, but Soleck accepted it. 

“There will be maps, of course. And there is a compass for guiding you. But maps and compasses can sometimes be tricky when you do not know if the road you are on is Center Street or The Grand Aisle, no?” He grinned, amused, and it was such an infectious expression that Susan found herself smiling back at him. 

“Oh, certainly,” Ed agreed cheerfully. “It does no good to say you've got seventeen leagues between Caer… between one place and the next if you’ve got no idea where you are in relation to either place, or even how to recognize either place when you get there.”

“Indeed. And so we will do what we can to guide you, and make certain you know where you are on those maps when your guides leave you. There are better solutions, I am sure…” He hesitated as Leffen tossed his head, but whatever the Companion was saying, he was not sharing it with the rest of them. “...other solutions, certainly, but this is the solution we have.”

None of them questioned that, for what could they say? They rode in silence instead, and for Susan’s part, at least, she studied the countryside, its farmlands and its rolling hills so like places she had been before, and so different. 

“Look,” Lu would say, from time to time, “a kestrel,” or “Look, a squirrel,” and she was as excited about both, so Susan knew her sister’s thoughts were along similar paths as her own. 

The boys were quieter, but once in a while, Ed would point out a road sign or some curiosity, or Peter would point out the slope of a roof or a way the rocks were put together in a wall. Nobody said _remember when we saw this in Narnia?;_ the habit was too ingrained in all of them. But it was writ large, even in the way they wore their tunics and breeches and split skirts, even in the way they sat on their placid, easy mounts. 

Susan noticed, too, the way Soleck was looking at them. She’d catch him looking at Edmund and Peter discussing the strategic importance of a specific wall, or Lucy humming thoughtfully about the the flow of a particular creek. She’d catch him looking at her studying the people walking down the road or riding in carts or carriages. 

“You four are… interesting,” he said, slowly and ruefully, when he realized he’d been caught out watching. “I begin to understand what it is the Sunlord would see, to bring you here. You are right, you Edmund, that people will see what they do of your stature, and they will not see what they should of your nature.” 

He sounded, Susan thought, a little bit sad. She kneed her horse a little closer to Leffen and looked up at him through a fringe of hair. It was a tactic Lucy had decried on more than one occasion — but on more occasions than that, it had gotten Susan quite far. “Is something amiss, Soleck?”

“Amiss?” His smile was even more triste than he had sounded previously. “This world, I believe, is amiss, that we would send children such as your brother and sister into such difficult situations. I see that the SunLord had his reasons, but the reasons of those above are not for ones like me to question.”

“He’s not a _tame_ SunLord,” Lucy muttered.

“No,” Soleck answered, sounding more than a little bit confused, “tame he is most definitely not.”

“It’s a, a thing we said about our… our god, the one who sent us here,” Susan managed to explain, but that did little, if anything, to wipe the lost and unhappy look from Soleck’s face. 

She supposed there were not that many people who could say, as she and Lu could, that they had ridden on the back of the Lion of Narnia, that they had cuddled the mane of their god.

She cleared her throat and, rather than attempting to explain what she imagined might be impossible to make clear, she changed the subject. “You mentioned maps, but what of the lay of the land. That is… we are in Valdemar. You said you were a Karsite. That is a part of Valdemar or another nation?”

“Oh, another nation, most definitely.” HE looked startled at the question. Interesting. “To the south and the east of Valdemar, not all that far from here, as such things go.”

“And Is Valdemar on a coast? What other nations border it?”

“Truly these are things you do not know? But you must have come from somewhere…” Soleck shook his head as Leffen danced in place, not “speaking” such that they Pevensies could hear, but being quite clear on his opinions nevertheless. Soleck coughed. “Ahem. So. Rethwellen borders Valdemar peacefully, and…”

By the time he was done, Susan found herself wishing for maps and a pad in which to write this. How had she ever learned all this, back in Narnia? More importantly, by the time she was done, the angry and confused look had vanished from Soleck’s face.

“Thank you for the briefing.” She bowed formally from horse-back, only to see Soleck flushing again. “It does make our job easier.”

“And you, in turn, make mine easier. Thank you.” He sounded confused rather than grateful. Susan wondered what was bothering him.


	10. The Tiny Queen Arises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once a Queen of Narnia...

The town they’d slept in this time was big enough to sport a proper inn, as well as a tailor and a dressmaker who’d been more than willing to put together another outfit each for the Pevensies. Soleck had paid for everything before handing over to Peter a full purse and giving him a quick explanation of the currency. 

“I feel as if we’re travelling in state now,” Lucy murmured to Susan. “We have proper changes of clothing, we have coins for largesse…”

“Careful now, Lu.” She knew her sister didn’t truly need warning, but Susan couldn’t help but give the caution anyway. “We’re not royal, here.”

“We’re royal,” Lucy responded, her chin up and her jaw set. “‘Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia.’” Her stubborn expression faded into one of longing. “We’re just a long way from home. Visiting incognito royalty.”

“On a secret mission,” Susan whispered. “Don’t forget that part. It’s quite important.”

Lucy giggled. “It’s very important,” she agreed. “Especially the secret part. Do you remember Tinderfoot, who could not understand ‘secret,’ no matter how many times we explained the concept? Or…” 

“Herald Soleck.” Susan talked over her sister with as much grace as such a thing could be managed. “Back from your shopping trip?” He’d taken off Edmund, in theory to buy him a more subtle weapon than Aslan’s gift. 

“Yes, and may I say, your brothers knowledge of weapons is quite impressive. I did not expect… well, I did not expect that.” He cleared his throat. “Please, don’t let me interrupt you.”

“Oh,” Susan said brightly, with the cheerful spark that had led many in two worlds to label her frivolous or shallow, “we were just talking about home, old friends and the like. Nothing particularly exciting, I’m afraid.”

There was a look on Soleck’s face, but Susan did not think it was disbelief. More, she thought, something like disappointment. 

Well, better he believe her somewhat shallow than he spend too much time worrying about her depth or her brother’s knowledge of weapons. He cleared his throat. “There is one who will guide you for a short time after you leave here. She would like to meet you now, if you would? If your reminiscences are not too dear?”

And that, Susan thought, sounded downright catty. She smiled brightly at him, cheerful and friendly. “Of course! A good guide is very important when one is as far from home as we are.”

She thought she might sound a little bit vapid, but Soleck did not seem to mind, or perhaps he simply had other things on his mind. A missing Prince, she mused, had to be putting quite a stress on those normally responsible for matters such as keeping that Prince safe and sound. She softened her smile a little bit, although he did not appear to notice 

“Indeed. And I am afraid the territory we will be sending you into is not, perhaps, the safest of places. It is lucky that your brothers seem very familiar with weapons and tactics for those so young. And you?” 

His eyebrows were up and he looked less than pleased. “I’m a fair hand with a bow,” Susan answered. “Lu can shoot pretty well, too, and you don’t want to get within reach of her short-sword.” She took a breath and met Soleck’s gaze. “The place we come from has been at war for many years,” she told him with complete honesty, letting the war show in her eyes. It might not have been where they learned to shoot a bow and arrow… but that was a complicated explanation. “We’re no stranger to battle, Herald Soleck, nor are we as green as you might think or wish.”

Lucy stomped her foot. “Your sun-lord and our… our god sent us. Why are you so worried?”

“Because, young miss,” Soleck answered, with quiet solemnity, “you, at least, look as if you should still be in the nursery, or running about Haven as a page. We do not train Heralds, even, as young as you are now. This mission will not be an easy one, and you are children.”

Susan set a hand on Lucy’s shoulder, but there was no stopping her. She had her chin out and a wild look in her eye. 

“Do you doubt your Sun-Lord?” she demanded. 

Susan wanted to protest, to scold, _Lu, stop it,_ but she wasn’t going to interrupt. Her sister had the floor and she would honor that. 

“He is not _my_ Sun-Lord. But no, I doubt neither him nor his avatars the fire-cats.”

“I do not doubt the Lord we follow, either. And if he has said _go into this place and find this man_ , that is what we will do.”

She sounded, high childish voice and all, much like Queen Lucy the Valiant. Susan smiled in lieu of an impolite cheer. 

Soleck cleared his throat. He clearly was uncertain what to do with a child speaking like a queen. Susan wanted to tell him she sounded like that the first time she was a child, too, you know, but that would do nothing but muddy the waters and confuse the issue. 

“You said there was someone for us to meet?” she guided him gently. 

“Ah, yes. Yes, indeed. She is, ah, not what I am, not a Herald. But she is bonded as a mercenary and is known to be trustworthy.”

“I am sure she will guide us truly,” Susan agreed. She found she wanted to smooth things over with Soleck, and hoped this was the direction which would lead there.

“She and the SunLord,” he answered piously. “She is this way.”


	11. Chapter 11: The Gentle Queen Awakens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pevensies meet their new guide; nobody is impressed by anybody.

_This way_ turned out to be into a tavern and to the darkest back corner. Peter and Edmund were waiting outside the building — the Mended Drum — for them, somehow already looking as if they belonged there. Peter had always been able to do that, step into a scene and belong there. Susan had watched Edmund learn it over their time in Narnia, and then again when they returned. 

It seemed to relax Soleck. He smiled sidelong at them and held open the door, leading them far into the back. 

In a shadowed corner, a figure sat with hood up, nursing a thick-walled mug of ale. She glanced up at them — Susan had only Soleck’s use of the pronoun to go on, as the cloak the figure was wearing concealed everything — and nodded. “Herald.”

“Polla. We have a deal?”

“These are them?” Her voice was deep for a woman, or high for a man, and husky. Susan caught the woman eyeing her, and did the same in return. “Well, on Valdemar’s head be it.”

The insult was clear. Susan braced herself, hoping neither her brothers nor Lucy would take obvious offense. 

Instead, Edmund flopped into the chair nearest the woman and grinned. “That’s the idea, no?” He held out his hand. “Edmund.”

Susan could not see the woman’s expression, but her voice sounded pleasantly surprised. “Polla.” She took Edmund’s hand and shook it; her hand was broad and scarred, the nails trimmed short. “And the rest?”

“Oh, this is my brother Peter, Peter, say hi to the nice lady, and these are our sisters, Susan and Lucy.” Something about the way Edmund said it made Susan feel like he wanted to add on their titles, the names Aslan had called them by. It made her bow a little more regal than it would have otherwise been. 

“Pleased to meet you,” she offered. “You are to be our guide, then?”

“That’s me. Bonded and paid by… them that’s hired you.”

 _Well, on Valdemar’s head be it._ Susan did not say it, but she thought it might show in her face. 

That was confirmed, or nearly so, when Polla threw back her head and laughed. “This one, I like. She has steel in her spine. Tell me, Soleck-Herald, what brought these four to you?”

Soleck cleared his throat. “The SunLord,” he muttered.

“The SunLord?” Polla’s voice shifted, dropping down into a conversational tone, and she leaned forward. “Interesting. The gods do not so often interfere directly, do they? Especially not V'kandis, and especially not here in Valdemar. Well.” She nodded to all four of them. “This will be an interesting trip. You can ride, I’ve been told. And you can fight?”

Edmund started to lean forward, as if to speak, and then leaned back, nodding at Peter. 

Susan raised an eyebrow but did not interrupt. She wondered if they had been doing some negotiating of their own, while she and Lucy had been off shopping. 

Peter cleared his throat. “Ed and I are fine in close-quarters fighting. We’re good with a sword or a mace. Lu and Susan are good with a short-sword, but you don’t want to get between Susan and her target; she’s a wicked shot with a bow, and Lucy’s pretty good too.”

“Girls good on distance, boys close up. Check.”

“Are we likely to see much combat on this mission?” Susan hoped she didn’t sound like a ninny; it was an important question, but sometimes she found her information requests were met with disdain.

Polla leaned back. A smile was visible from under the shadow of her hood. “Likely? Depends on you four. Is it possible? Combat is always a possibility. Once I got jumped while I was eating soup at a tavern three hours’ ride from the nearest battlefront.”

Soleck cleared his throat. “There’s no need to frighten them.”

“There is every need to frighten them, if the idea of battle makes them quake in their boots. But I don’t think they’re frightened. I think they’re measuring me up, am I right?”

Peter cleared his throat. “If you’re to be our guide… then we should know you. This is a strange land to us, and Herald Soleck and his Companion are the only ones we know apart from you.”

Polla laughed, a deep and happy sound that echoed in their small corner. “See? HE’s a diplomat, too. I see why you picked ‘em for this mission. All right. When can you be ready to leave?”

“Immediately, if necessary,” Peter answered for them. “We have little in the way of luggage and our mounts have been rested.”

“Don’t talk half fancy, does he? Well, maybe it’s for the better. Let me settle up my tab, and then we’re off, me kiddos.” Polla levered herself to her feet; it was then that Susan noticed the walking stick by her side. 

Soleck put a hand on Polla’s. “I will pay. ‘Expenses’ was said, no? This is an expense.”

Polla laughed again, shorter and more clipped this time. “If you’d been my client…”

“But I am the client now, and we cannot go chasing after last year’s chickens. I will pay. You see these children on to the road.” He bowed low to Polla, and then to Susan and Peter, to Edmund and Lucy. “Bring him home,” he murmured very softly. “Sunlord’s-gift, we are all counting on you.”

Susan stood. Next to her, she could feel her family doing the same. She nodded her head to Soleck, the words and tone of Queen Susan coming back to her. “We will do all we can, Herald Soleck, to bring him home safely to you. On that, you have our word.”


	12. The Terror of the Plains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polla might be a bit impressed by the Pevensies...

They left the tavern on that solemn note. Polla, Susan could tell, was attempting to hide a limp. She moved until she was between the woman and the mass of the crowd, and smiled as she saw Peter flank Polla on the other side. 

The woman, in turn, said nothing, but Susan noted that she let herself lean a little more heavily on her cane, and that she still sighed with relief when they had reached the inn’s stables. “You’re good kids.”

“You’re not the first war veteran we’ve encountered.” Edmund’s answer was casual, so casual that at first Susan thought he’d gone too far. “It’s hard to be out there with strangers seeing a weakness like that, right?”

Polla didn’t answer for a moment. She busied herself with the saddle on her dun mount, a small and flat saddle far less complicated than the ones the Pevensies had been using. There were not so many straps on it to take such time, and yet she was still working on her saddle when Susan had finished saddling her own mount. 

“It is hard,” she agreed, so quietly that the jangle of tack nearly covered her voice. “And it’s frustrating. I am not _weak_ , but that’s all they see. A limp, when I used to be the Terror of the Plains.”

“The Terror of the Plains?” Lucy asked, in her high child’s voice. Polla turned from her tack to look down at Lu. 

“It was advertising, more or less. Telling everyone I was far bigger than I was. Telling them _we_ were bigger than we were — my merc crew,” she continued, before they could ask. “We were tough and a little wild, but we were a small crew. So we talked ourselves up until we nearly believed it.” She swung herself up into the saddle. Seeing her there, her limp momentarily unimportant, Susan could believe her having been the Terror of the Plains.

Susan swung up into her own saddle. “I — we — know a bit about being seen as smaller and weaker than we are. It can make you want to throw rocks, can’t it?”

“Susan!” Peter was, of course, scandalized.

“Well, it can. It always has, Peter, whether it was you and Ed forgetting that Lu and I had brains of our own, or Mum and Dad thinking we were… we were just children.” She looked directly at Polla. “We’re smaller than we are, as Lucy once said. And so we know all about being looked at as lesser and… incapable.”

Polla caught it. She coughed. “Then the gods look favorably upon Valdemar after all, don’t they? You’re a sharp one — Susan, it was? You remind me of my old Captain.”

“Thank you.” Susan smiled broadly. “There are far worse compliments than to be reminiscent of a mercenary captain. Some of…” _our best friends and finest warriors, my favorite lover, the ones that won that war for us…_ “We have known some fine mercenaries over the years.”

“I begin to think that your years are counted a little differently than your average gal-on-a-horse counts them.”

“We count every year twice,” Lucy put in, chipper and patently insincere. “That way there are twice as many birthday parties, and we can grow up twice as fast.”

Polla chuckled. “You’re quite adorable. But don’t think I don’t see how you sit your saddle, young miss.”

Lucy slouched deliberately and exaggeratedly. “Dunno whotcher talkin bout, lady?” She ruined it by grinning, which led to Polla barking out a laugh. Even Edmund chuckled, the quiet sound that he normally reserved only for family. 

“You’re fun, too. Not sure I’ve ever met people that were clever and kind _and_ fun.”

Lucy straightened up. “We’re still kids,” she answered innocently. “We’re supposed to be fun. And clever, well—” she shrugged. “We might be pretty smart. There’s a reason we were chosen, of course.”

“Of course. Valdemar does some pretty strange things though, young Lucy. And sometimes they are not the best chosen. You'll forgive me for trusting my own judgement more than theirs, I hope.”

“Only as long as you forgive us for trusting ours.” Lucy’s smile was so bright, people often forgot to take offense even when she was being patently offensive. “We were brought here to do a job, but people seem very reluctant to let us do it. I think it’s making my brothers and sister a little touchy.” She stage-whispered the last as they walked their horses out onto the road.

“And not you?” Polla raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, no, I never get touchy. I’m the cheerful one. That’s what I’m called, Lucy the Sunny.”

“Valiant,” Edmund interjected, lazily but with a point hidden in all the silk. One again, Susan remembered how much she’d missed this side of her brother — and of her sister. “They called you the Valiant. And you earned it.”

Lucy blushed and ducked her head. “They did at that, sometimes,” she muttered. 

Polla let the silence hang a few minutes, their horses’ hooves clopping on the cobbles as the only sound. “They,” she said, finally, the single word punctuated by a birdcall. 

“They,” Edmund repeated, in the same smooth tone.

“You were brought here to help with our little problem.”

“We were sent,” Susan answered. 

“Susan…” Peter began, but she shook her head. 

“We were called for — and we were sent. The rest is a wee bit complicated, but we come from a long way away.”

“A long way away, hrrm? Well.” Polla smiled, a strange smile but not a bad one, “let’s hope it turns out to be worth the trip, then.”


End file.
